My landlady in northern Greece used to wait every year until tomatoes were starting to get all soft and squishy and cost a few cents per kilo. She would then have about 20 crates delivered to the house and she and four or five friends would sit round gossiping in the courtyard of the little, old house next door boiling them up and putting them in jars. My Greek is terrible but I am sure it sounded like:
Double, double, toil and trouble; (10)
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble...etc
I could be wrong but there always seemed to be a dearth of fenny snakes afterwards.